A Loss, A Gain
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: England has lost the war against America for independence, but he finds comfort in Canada.


A/N

This is a gift for Sketchfiend's generous donation to the Keep Sephy Sane Fund. Information on my DA! And Y!Gal journals. This is my first time writing either of these two in such a long time, so be gentle! ;)

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The smell of rain invaded the house with a gust of wind, rustling the pages of the book that Matthew was reading. A wet leaf landed in front of him, soaking the words on thin paper. Looking up, he gave a gasp. There stood a man with mussed, short blond hair which covered his eyes presently. His bright red military coat was soaked though, his rifle dragging behind him as he held it by the strap. There was a trail of water, mud, and leaves left behind him, and he was dripping more. "Arthur!" He stood up swiftly, letting the book fall, forgotten, to the floor. "Are you all—"

"_I lost him._" Arthur whispered, voice hoarse. Droplets of water on his hair created rivers on his face, or were they…?

"Wh-what?" Mathew frowned, reaching out to touch his shoulder gently. He gave a yelp as the Englishman leaned forward, barely catching his shoulders as Arthur grasped the front of his dry sweater. "A-Arthur!" Arthur, not Sir or Mr. Kirkland… Most colonies were more formal with their superiors, but Arthur had always been closer than that. Matthew was panicked, going down to his knees in order to keep the slightly shorter nation from falling to the ground. His pants became wet at his knees as they soaked up the small puddle there, but he could care less.

"_Your bloody arrogant brother_!" The older nation rasped, "_I lost him._" Those words finally seemed to hit home for Matthew, and his eyes widened as Arthur's hair soaked the front of his sweater. _Alfred_… Then, the war was over? A terrible wave of relief spread over him, while at the same time it was tinged with guilt. How many times had the Englishman visited him during this long war for independence? How many times had he sat politely and listened to Arthur rant about his North American brother? This or that battle had gone good or bad, and he was either winning or losing. Alfred had even had the gall to invade _Matthew, _but that had gone badly for his brother when he showed that a soft voice and innocent face did _not _mean that he was a pushover.

So why was he so _happy_? The answer was simple… Because now Arthur was all his. No more being invisible, no more striving for attention! Alfred was always so loud, so impressive; he was all that Arthur could talk about even when he was visiting Matthew. The guilt of course was there, the knowledge of everything that his father-figure had _lost… _"Arthur…" He said quietly, hands tightening on those shoulders. In the next moment, those hands which had been fisted into his sweater shoved, knocking Matthew back onto the couch. The older nation was now kneeling between his legs, causing the Canadian's face to flush deeply. "_Ah, Arth—_!" He was cut off by the lips which pressed over his own, sealing them in a cold, wet kiss. It was all that he could do to breathe in sharply through his nose, just a moment before he felt the Englishman's hot, slick tongue invading his mouth. Such a contrast to those cool lips. Matthew's eyes fell half-lidded, his glasses askew and dappled with rain now.

Arthur took a hold of the end of Matthew's sweater, lifting it up. The feel of those chilly hands was enough to shock the blond colony out of his bliss, breaking the kiss to gasp for breath. His voice was strained when he spoke, disbelieving and flustered. "_A-Arthur, what are you…_?" He asked, sucking in his stomach as his superior's hands spread out over his it. Palms smooth and fingers calloused, battle had taken its toll there. They slid upwards towards his chest, causing Matthew to draw away from them with a startled yelp. The hands only followed him, fingers brushing nipples already erect from the cold alone.

"_What I should have done as soon as I had the chance._" Arthur murmured against his neck, giving it a sharp nip.

"_Ah_!"

"_Making you mine…_" Matthew's heart was in his throat. Arthur's fingers rubbed those pert nipples in circles as he sealed his lips over his colony's neck, raising a stinging mark to the surface as if marking him that way.

"_A-Ar-Arthur, w-wait…_!" The taller but younger colony arched into both sensations now, quite overwhelmed. His heart was beating frantically, his breath almost panicked. It was too fast, too sudden! But Arthur wasn't stopping, hands on the end of Matthew's sweater again. He lifted it upwards and off of his head, pulling the strawberry blond's glasses almost all the way off. Disheveled, embarrassed, the Canadian groaned as his superior nation's green eyes took him in. "B-bedroom!" He gasped out finally.

"…What?" Arthur seemed confused. Matthew ducked his head down, eyes closed as he adjusted his glasses.

"I-I said… the bedroom… please, Sir." It was the situation that made his manners come back up. Arthur looked as if a thrill had passed through him at that word, grinning slightly. Matthew smiled back a little, though he was unsure of what exactly he'd said right. "Oh..!" He wasn't prepared to have Arthur swing his arm around his waist, lifting the taller colony from his seat with seemingly no effort, right over his shoulder. The Englishman's red coat was soaked, transferring to the Canadian's stomach and pants, getting his skin wet through them. He grasped at the back of that coat anyway, trying his best to stay balanced as his face turned red again. Was this really even happening? Had he fallen asleep reading, and now he was simply dreaming this again? "_Oof_!" Matthew landed on the bed with enough force to know for sure this wasn't a dream.

Arthur's hands were in his own jacket, ridding himself of the sopping wet garment quickly. It fell to the floor with a _plop, _and his shirt followed quickly. Off came his boots, muddy and wet, everything was such a mess! He'd have a lot of cleaning to do when this was over with… The Englishman's pants were next, and in no time he stood nude in at the end of the Canadian's bed. _Intimidating… _That's what Mathew thought as he let his blue-violet eyes roam over his superior nation's slender body. So much strength within that deceivingly small frame. And that long coulomb of flesh between his legs stood erect and full already, receiving the longest glance from the flustered colony. He sat up to scoot back on instinct when Arthur placed his knee onto the bed.

The Englishman seemed amused, grinning as he crawled forward like a hunting cat, as if he might pounce. Instead his hands set on the Canadian's pants, undoing them swiftly to tug them down his hips. Matthew placed his hands behind them, speechless as he lifted his hips to aid him. Down and off his bare feet, he winced as they joined the mess of wet clothes on the floor. He didn't have much time to think about it before those lips were on his own again, leading him to lie out on the bed with his shoulders against it. _Rain… _Arthur tasted of rain. Not the rain of his brother's house, but his own rain. He remembered being told that it rained a lot at Arthur's house, but he had never been able to see it for himself. None of that mattered now that he could _taste _it…

Arms wound around Arthur's shoulders as they kissed, groaning as the older nation chewed at his lower lip. He could barely see through his glasses anymore, they were so smeared with water and slightly fogged. He had to take them off, setting them on the bedside table as Arthur's lips traveled back down to his throat. The Englishman's lips were no longer cold, but _hot _as they claimed several more small marks on the Canadian's pale skin. He raised them stinging to the surface, leaving behind purple-red marks of ownership there. From his neck to his chest, he was soon dotted with them. Arthur's hands slid down his colony's sides, settling on his hips as he moved up between them, his tongue brushing over one pert nipple.

"_Haa…_" Matthew gasped as teeth nipped it, only to be bathed with that tongue again. Lips closing over it, Arthur's right hand slid down his colony's thigh, only to come back up along the inside. Calloused fingers brushed his nearly full arousal, raising one thick eyebrow in question to the Canadian. Matthew's face was crimson in the dark room, shaking his head. "_I-I…_" But Arthur was smiling soon enough, wrapping long fingers around it to stroke him slowly. "_Aah.._!" The strawberry blond's head fell back into his pillows, back arching as his hands clutched at the sheets to his sides.

"No need…" _Nip, _"to explain…" Arthur assured him. "Lotion…?"

"Wh-what?" Matthew's eyes turned upwards again.

"Lotion, oil… Do you have any?" The Englishman asked impatiently. Matthew suddenly looked panicked,

"N-no…" He shook his head. Not one to give up so easily, the Englishman glanced over to the drawer beside the bed. On top of it sat a lamp, and that was all that he needed to see to bring a grin back to his expression. Releasing the Canadian's arousal he grabbed the lamp, taking it apart within moments. Dipping his fingers into the oil, he brought them back down between his colony's legs. "_A-ah…_" Matthew complained at the coldness of it as Arthur rubbed his fingers at his entrance.

"_Shh, relax…_" Coaxed the older nation, as he slowly slid one finger inside of that tight, hot heat. The Canadian couldn't help but tense, hissing as he was filled with the strangest of feelings. Though Arthur's finger was slender, it was foreign, and his body didn't quite know what to make of it. And on the other hand, it was _Arthur, _and it was _inside _of him. Hands grasped at the pillow above his head, his eyes seeking out the emerald ones of his superior, holding them desperately. "_That's it…_" Coaxed the man on top of him, thrusting his finger testingly, before the second one moved to join it.

It was a slow process, as Matthew tensed many times as he was stretched by the older nation's deft fingers. But soon enough two became three, and he they were seeking out some place inside of him that made his entire body hum with pleasure. "_A-Arthur, sir…_!" He cried out loud as the Englishman brushed it again, three fingers deep inside of his writhing body. That was all it took for the older nation's resolve to become hard enough to finish it. He pulled his fingers out slowly, giving the Canadian's thigh a light slap.

"Turn around, on your stomach." He ordered. Matthew couldn't even think of disobeying him now, and he scrambled to his hands and knees, down on his elbows and knees when Arthur's hand pressed firmly on his shoulders. Dipping his fingers back into the oil, Arthur covered his own arousal in it. Moving up into position, holding those slender hips, he slowly began to push inside.

"_Aaah…ahh…_" Matthew clutched at the sheets under him, panting raggedly. _Yes… yes, yes…_! Was all that he could think. _I have it, I have him, I __**am **__his…_! It hurt a little, but it was every bit worth it for how long he had waited for this! For Arthur to recognize his loyalty, and come to _him _for this, instead of his clueless and arrogant brother Alfred! The Englishman was almost all the way inside when Matthew pressed his hips back into him, the both of them crying out as their hips met. Arthur leaned over him, hot breath falling out over the back of his neck and tickling the hair there.

"_Be ready…_" Arthur didn't hold back. Pulling back his hips, he thrust back inside with enough force to move the taller body forward, and Matthew grabbed a hold of his headboard to keep still. The wet slaps of flesh meeting filled the small bedroom soon enough, along with panting breath and Matthew's low moans of pleasure and Arthur's grunts or groans. Half of him suspected Arthur's true intent for this position was something other than just a preference, but he didn't think too heavily on it. The loss and all the hurt he'd suffered by losing to Alfred, the Canadian's body was an outlet for all of it. And that was alright. It was better than being alone, being invisible.

And so he didn't think anything of it when Arthur didn't stay the night. As he borrowed clean clothes from Matthew, gathered his own wet ones and left, Matthew cuddled down into his bed with a smile on his face. He finally had something that his brother did not, something Alfred didn't _deserve. _Arthur's love… Even if it was only from time to time, he was sure that the Englishman would remember. Remember who had never betrayed him… who was all too willing to be his.


End file.
